


Love, Suga

by sugasets (beesuwal)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 09:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5661703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beesuwal/pseuds/sugasets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa receives a postcard one day. It makes him a little emotional.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, Suga

Oikawa’s mom had left milk bread on the kitchen table for him, as well as mail. 

The former isn’t unusual at all; on summer weekends, Oikawa’s mother likes to make his favorite breakfast before leaving for work. Something about motivating Oikawa to get out of bed on lazy Saturday mornings, he recalls her mentioning. He loves his mom for it, thinks his mother is very good at persuasion.

But mail, and not the electronic kind, is quite unusual in this household, and Oikawa half-expects the envelope to dissolve in thin air when he picks it up, like a mirage. It doesn’t disappear though, almost weightless but solid in Oikawa’s hand, and Oikawa notes the neat  _Oikawa Tooru_ written on the front. Blinking his drowsiness away, Oikawa wonders who would send him real, physical, honest-to-postage mail — Oikawa, who considers his smartphone his best friend, and has said as much. ( _Ow, Iwa-chan! I didn’t mean it like — ow! IWA-CHAN!)_

Oikawa’s first thought upon opening the envelope with a butter knife is that it’s not a love letter, surprisingly enough. Instead of drawings of hearts and  _I like you, Oikawa-san_ ’s, Oikawa happens upon a picture of one of the schools he vaguely recognizes as somewhere in Tokyo. It’s no Aoba Jousai, definitely; there isn’t anything remarkable about the appearance of the school other than the scenic background of trees and flowers and a transmission tower that almost looks like the Tokyo Tower. Still, the postcard is cute, all things considered, and it makes the corners of Oikawa’s lips turn up in amusement.

He flips it over to find the name of the sender and immediately notices the polaroid shot taped to the back. It’s mostly candid, by the looks of it, and Oikawa takes a moment to analyze the photo, curious. Shrimpy-chan is in it, arguing about something or the other with an elastic-looking guy in pink shorts, while Karasuno’s ace stands by with a helpless look on his face. Some of the other Karasuno guys are off to the side, talking in a circle. Tobio-chan is there, too, absently sipping on a milk carton in the background, staring off into space as he has always been wont to do.

But never mind  _Tobio-chan_ of all people, why is he even paying attention to silly Tobio-chan? Honestly, Oikawa huffs, cross with himself. There are other things infinitely more interesting than his junior setter. 

Like Suga, for example, who is at the very foreground of the picture, smiling wide and careless as his eyes crinkle in laughter. He holds slender fingers up in a ‘V’ as he stares directly into the camera, looking smug and childlike at the same time, like he’s proud of a secret Oikawa doesn’t know. 

Suga is breathtaking, and Oikawa is well-aware, but he still stares at Suga for longer than is absolutely necessary to look at a picture. Oikawa doesn’t even mind that Suga has stolen his signature peace sign pose. He just concludes that Suga-chan is ridiculous, for going through all the trouble of sending a postcard when Oikawa lives an hour away from their training camp and resides at the top of Suga’s ‘favorite contacts’ list in his phone. 

He is _so_ ridiculous, in fact, that he makes Oikawa’s insides slosh warm, liquid in his chest and bright against his ribs.

 _We’re all training hard to kick Aoba Jousai’s ass at Spring High!  (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧_ is written in black marker below the picture. It sounds so much like Suga’s cheerful determination that it makes Oikawa hurt with a kind of longing, suddenly aware of his bare feet on the cold tiles, alone in his house.

He doesn’t think twice about calling Suga on his phone — it’s early, but if Oikawa should be having breakfast, then the teams at training camp probably are, as well. Suga picks up on the third ring.

“Oikawa,” Suga says, tone light and teasing, like he knows the postcard is in Oikawa’s hands and has wrought havoc on his morning, the jerk.

“I got your card,” Oikawa says, anyway. There’s a smile on Suga’s face, he can tell, and it’s growing. “You’re adorable.”

Suga’s laugh sounds like chimes, tinkling in the summer breeze. It isn’t even 8AM yet, but already it makes Oikawa’s day. 

“I want to kiss you,” Oikawa blurts. It's incredibly forward and a little bit embarrassing, but Oikawa doesn't care. He can't stop thinking about how lucky he is to have the best person to miss, and how hard it is to miss him all the same.

“Do you, now,” Suga teases, sounding only a touch flustered and more pleased than he should be. It makes Oikawa beam.

"I do," Oikawa says, plain as day, and almost urgent in his sincerity. "So much."

Suga swallows. “I really, really miss you,” Suga sighs, quiet. “Next time, you should try to get Aoba Jousai to come train with all of us.” 

“I will,” Oikawa promises. They both know there is no next time, but Oikawa would give Suga the world. “I miss you, too, Suga-chan.”

“It’ll be fine!” Suga exclaims after a beat of silence, a shade sadder than usual, but clear and strong in his conviction, even over telephone static. Oikawa can feel a part of his chest clench. “I’m going to train hard and kick your ass at Spring High, like I said. You can count on that!”

“As long as I get to kiss you when you come back from training, dear,” Oikawa laughs, teasing and a little wistful all at once. Suga huffs into the receiver, like he’s almost offended Oikawa hadn’t taken his bait, but he knows better. His exhale is soft, but affectionate. 

“Don't worry,” Suga murmurs, “you will.” It sounds like a promise. Oikawa’s spine tingles.

“You should get back to breakfast now,” Oikawa tells him. He can feel Suga smiling, again.

“Okay. Love you, Tooru,” Suga says and hangs up before Oikawa can answer. Which is fine, Oikawa thinks, because he doesn’t really have enough breath to manage — his heart is full, about to burst and catch in his throat. 

 _I LOVE YOU SUGAWARA KOUSHI ₍₍ ( ๑॔˃̶◡ ˂̶๑॓)◞♡_ he sends over text, because Oikawa lacks the ability to properly put his feelings into words. It’s no postcard either, Oikawa knows. He is more than ready to make up for that when Suga comes back, and Oikawa is nothing but determined. 

He means it, though. With every inch of his body — aching with longing, but flushed warm.

**Author's Note:**

> (For OiSuga Week 2016; Day 2: Postcards - early post).
> 
> Oikawa is a sap, Suga is lowkey cheesy, I love these two, and also, I love these two together.
> 
> I got into the HQ fandom less than a month ago, so these two might be painfully out of character. I apologize. All the same, it was quite fun writing this fic!
> 
> Tumblr post can be found [here](http://sugasets.tumblr.com/post/136808863448/love-suga)!
> 
> Note: Edited 01/09/2016! It didn't flow as well as I thought it would so I made some minor edits, hehe.


End file.
